


Living (and Loving) with PDS at the PPDC

by slightly_oblivvyous



Series: Partnership for Partially Deceased Corrections [2]
Category: In the Flesh (TV), Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Hermann is a zombie, In The Flesh!AU, M/M, Newt is a sap, this is almost fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 10:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2689034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightly_oblivvyous/pseuds/slightly_oblivvyous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt learns the story of how Hermann originally died and shows some appreciation for the scars holding him together. (still inspired by <a href="http://contrabasse.co.vu/post/103592152245/in-the-flesh-pacific-rim-au-with">this drawing</a> by <a href="contrabasse.co.vu">contrabasse</a>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Living (and Loving) with PDS at the PPDC

"Hey Hermann, why do you have one of those dumb orange Give Back vests?"

"Because I have PDS, Newton, you know that. Why are you in my closet?"

"I got Risen guts all over my undershirt today, dude, I'm not sleeping in that."

Hermann sat up in his bed and watched Newt rifle through his clothing. "You could just sleep without one, you know."

Newt laughed softly as he squirmed into one of Hermann's seven identical undershirts. "Hermann I love you, and you're great at cuddling, but your body is frigid." He reached out and lifted the orange volunteer vest again. "Seriously, why do you have this? I thought they made exceptions for disabled PDS sufferers."

Hermann sighed deeply. "I had hoped that would be the case, but since I wasn't disabled before I died, the council decided my current disability was 'insufficent cause' to excuse me from the Scheme."

"Seriously?" Newt squawked. "Bastards!" He threw the vest back into the closet with a scoff, and then knit his brow. "What do you mean, you weren't disabled when you died? How did you... can I ask?" He gestured vaguely at Hermann's legs under the sheets.

"I suppose you deserve to know," Hermann nodded slowly, pushing the covers off his legs.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I mean, I'm just curious, so--"

"No, I do want to, I... trust you." He pushed himself up off the bed and hooked his thumb in the waistband of his boxers, then hesitated. "Please be aware that what you're about to see will not be pretty."

"All of you is pretty, Herms," Newt said absently, watching Hermann's hands in rapt attention. For all they had done - for all Hermann had done for him - he had never seen Hermann without his boxers on.

Hermann gave him a lopsided smile, took a deep breath, and uncovered a messy web of stitching across his hips. Newt had seen some faint scarring on Hermann's stomach, but never guessed at the true extent of the damage. The flesh over his right hip was held together with stitches and staples, and Newt became suddenly conscious of the tattoos along his own arms.

"Does it hurt?"

"Blessedly, no. I don't really feel much of anything."

"Can I touch them?"

Hermann looked startled at the question. "Why?"

"Because I like you." Newt took a slow step forward, fidgeting with his hands, obviously struggling to keep them to himself. "I like all of you. And I want to know all of you, even the parts you're not proud of."

"... yes."

Newt dropped to his knees and cupped his hands gently around Hermann's bare hips. He ran featherlight touches over the wounds, noting that the scar tissue was thin, as though it had only just begun to heal.

"Is this how you... is this what killed you?"

"Yes. I was walking home from a late night at the university when a drunk driver veered off the road and hit me. I died instantly. Or so says my obituary; all I remember is bright lights and then waking up in a coffin."

"Dude, you looked up your own obituary?" Newt gave Hermann an incredulous look but didn't stop the gentle touches.

Hermann's lips twisted into a wry smile. "I was curious what they had to say about me. The results were... informative, at least."

"And did they detail how fantastically sexy you are?" Newt asked, pressing a kiss to the worst of the damage.

"No Newton, I believe you are the only person to hold that opinion." The wry smile became genuine as he threaded his fingers through Newt's hair. 1 As Newt's kisses moved inward however, he tightened his grip. "Newton, please."

"As in 'Newton, please give me a blowjob'?"

"As in 'Newton, please remember that I cannot actually get an erection.' Surely you know that requires a working bloodstream."

"Yes, I know, but... shit, please let me do this? Even if you can't feel how awesome it is, I could trigger some awesome memories! Someone must have done this for you before, right?"

Hermann snorted. "Believe it or not, my sex life was not _completely_ dead before I was."

"But none of your other partners ever told you that you're sexy?"

"Only you," Hermann answered fondly. He tugged lightly on Newt's hair, urging him to stand. "Come Newton, let's go to bed. We can form new memories later."

Newt stood, wrapping his arms around Hermann's shoulders and catching his lips with his own. "Mmm, alright."

"Besides," Hermann whispered against his lips, "I wouldn't want to think of anyone but you."

**Author's Note:**

> 1 If anyone wants to take it from here and write some steamy zombie smut, PLEASE DO.


End file.
